Making Fiends
by louare
Summary: After SPM, Luigi is still haunted. And when he again decides to take place in the Smash Tournament, the pressure turns out to be too much. So, he finds a new vice. Alcohol Abuse, Swearing.
1. Chapter 1

It was late at night. Most of the competitors in the Smash mansion were asleep. Some of course, were still awake; Snake was hiding in a cardboard box on the fifth floor hallway, keeping watch. Lucas was awake in his room, staring at the wall, and Meta Knight was still trying to convince a Kirby with a sugar high to go to sleep. But for the most part, it was quiet night, and a quiet mansion.

Out in the square, it was far past closing time for all the shops and restaurants. There was only one store where the lights still shined. A small café, situated on the corner of the square: The Roost.

"And- and you know what?" Luigi grinned, "I think, I think that maybe I'll just _go,_ just go, you know?" he giggled to himself. "Who the fuck… would care? Who?" He laughed again, and slumped against the counter, hiding his face against the wood.

There were only two people in the café; the man sitting at the bar, wearing pajamas and drunk, and the bartender behind the counter. Bottles were strewn across the counter. A few of them had rolled off onto the floor.

"I mean, death can't be… that bad?" Luigi tried to drink another swallow of beer, and failed as the bottle slipped from his hand and smashed against the floor. He stared at it in wonder, then looked at the bartender. "Oops," he said, "S-sorry Brewster, I'm… drunk." Luigi giggled.

Brewster cooed softly. "Luigi, I don't appreciate you drinking this much... It causes more harm than good, coo."

"Re-lax, Brew, l-life's a party, doesn't matter how you, ho-how you _liver_ it." He stared at Brewster, waiting. "G-get it? It's because of all this liver damage I'm getting!"

"Luigi…" Brewster said, and cooed again, like a long sigh. "I'm cutting you off."

Luigi reeled, "What! Brew-Brewster-" He leaned across the counter, reaching out with one hand. Brewster stepped away. "Br… bro, we, we were having a good time, right? Come on, don't do this to me, man _please."_

"Luigi, I cannot allow you to stay any longer, coo." Brewster said.

Luigi snorted. "Why not… it's not… like anyone cares when I go back. Come on... " he reached again, and Brewster leaned back. "Please? Just a few more. Please."

"It is an hour after curfew, Luigi. "Brewster said quietly.

"Y…yeah?" Luigi said, leaning back. "And-"Then, with a drunk man's confidence, he puffed out his chest, crossing his arms and glaring. "So?" He challenged. "I don't care about curfew. What's Master Hand gonna do?"

"It is hour after my closing time, coo." Brewster said. He looked into Luigi's eyes. "The other customers have left. I allowed you to stay… Luigi."

Luigi looked around the café. He saw the empty tables, and the dimmed lights outside; his foot brushed against a bottle on the floor, and he looked down. His shoulders dropped.

"I-I'm sorry Brewster. " Luigi said. He wouldn't meet Brewster's eyes.

"Do… you need help getting back to your room?" Brewster asked. As Luigi began to stand from the stool, Brewster came out from around the bar, waiting to see if the man needed any help. Luigi leaned against the counter for a moment, swaying.

"I'm sorry." He said again, dragging himself to the door. Brewster followed him. He locked the door, and then watched through the tinted windows as Luigi stumbled towards Smash Mansion. When the man had disappeared from sight, the bartender turned, sighing, and began cleaning the mess left behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Luigi was back the next night, exactly after closing. Brewster left the door unlocked, and was behind the bar when Luigi walked in.

"I had a feeling you would come in, coo." Brewster said as the man sat down. He opened a bottle without being asked, and laid it on the bar. As Luigi reached out to grab it, Brewster noticed the fresh bandages peeking out from under the long sleeves.

Thirty minutes and 10 bottles later, Luigi broke the silence.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Brewster. "He said.

"…For what?" Brewster said.

"For staying past curfew yesterday. And having the gall to the same thing today." Luigi said. He swallowed the last gulp of alcohol, and set the bottle to the side. "It feels nice, though ya know? "He said. "That stuff tastes terrible, but it makes it numb. Makes it a little bit better."

Brewster watched him."…Yes. You acquired quite a tab last night, coo."

Luigi grinned. "Yeah. I- I thought you looked impressed. Just add this to last night's tab; I'll bring some money tomorrow…" He paused and looked away. "uh…"

"…Night. Tomorrow night, yes, coo."

Luigi relaxed and smiled at Brewster. "T…Thanks." And then he looked away again, shoulders becoming tense. "I guess you wanna know why, huh?"

"That would be… pleasant, coo." Brewster placed another open bottle on the counter. Luigi took a long swallow before answering. He kept his gaze down at the bar.

"It's… nothing important, really. It's just been harder lately, you know? I'm fine, really, I just wanted some relief. "Luigi smiled in his direction, but wouldn't meet Brewster's eyes. The man took another swallow. "I'm fine, really. Life's pretty great, right?"

Brewster watched Luigi as he drew another bottle from underneath the bar, popped the top, and placed it on the counter in front of the man.

"I am here, coo." he said. "If ever… you need to talk. "

Luigi laughed. "Brewster, I am _great._ "He said, "And as a matter of fact, right now I don't want to talk, I just want to drink. How about setting up a few more beers on the bar? Let's see how many it takes before I can't move."

"…After this, you're cut off, coo." Brewster said. "You are a bit too heavy for me to carry back to your room."

Luigi snorted, and his hand jerked, letting some of the beer splash out onto the bar. "Come on, you gotta be stronger than you look. I bet you're ripped underneath those feathers."

Brewster smiled." Well, Luigi, I will bet that you're never get to feel and see, coo."

Luigi, in the middle of a swallow, choked and started coughing, forehead falling against the counter. "Fucking _shit,_ Brew! "He gasped. Brewster just laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

Luigi was four beers into his usual twelve before Brewster finally said something about the bandages. This was the third night Luigi stayed late, and this time he wasn't wearing his usual outfit- he was in sleep clothes, a tank top and blue sweatpants. He had worn a jacket in, but that ended up on the floor around the second bottle. The man's arms were fully bare for the first time, and Brewster had caught a good look at the strips of white banding around each arm. They were all the way up to the shoulder.

He was concerned.

"I didn't know the tournament had become so rough, coo." Brewster said. Luigi jerked in surprise.

"What?" The man had already begun to slur his words. Luigi did have a low alcohol tolerance.

"I didn't know the tournament… had become so violent, coo." Brewster repeated. He made a vague gesture towards the man's arms. "I understand the Hands had to… hire a doctor?"

"Y-yeah. Doctor Mario." Luigi said.

Brewster raised his eyebrows. "Your… brother, coo?"

Luigi smiled at that. "Nah, my cousin. We're distantly related. Guess you haven't seen him around much then; I mean, he looks a lot like Mario but a lot older too. "

"You… like him?"

Luigi shrugged. "He's pretty nice. I know a lot of the younger smashers do- Ness, Toon Link. He's nice to them I guess, tells them stories and stuff. He used to be a smasher too- I think he retired. Maybe he got too tired of fighting." Luigi glanced away, but looked back at Brewster, then down at his beer.

"So, how were you hurt, coo?" Brewster reached underneath the counter and pulled out another bottle. He looked around for the opener.

"Hah ha, man you've got a lot of question, eh?" Luigi grinned at him." I got a little bruised up in my brawl today, there's a bunch of bruises on my arms. I gotta keep uh, pressure on them. I don't know why, just doctor's orders."

Brewster looked at him, setting another bottle on the counter. Luigi looked away again, and in a moment, his confidence faded into a miserable guilt.

"Im'a sorry." He mumbled under his breath.

"What are you sorry for, coo?" Brewster said, in his quiet way. Luigi didn't answer. He stared into the bottle.

"…Luigi?"

Luigi didn't say anything for another few breaths. Finally, he shook his head. "Nothin'." He muttered, and then looked up and smiled. "I'm never sorry, Brewster. Why should I be, eh? I've done nothing wrong. Life… is great. "

Brewster sighed. "For everyone else but you, it seems."

Luigi looked at him, a sharp look on his face. " _Brewster_ ," He said in a warning tone. "Please." The pigeon could see the tension in his shoulders. "I'm…"

Brewster raised his wings in surrender. "I'm worried, coo. " He said. "Please, just make sure to take care of yourself. "

The tension relaxed. The sharp look on the man's face eased, and Luigi leaned back in his chair. "Heh. Don't worry man, I'm taking care. " He shook his head. "I mean, I'll be sure _to_ take care."

Brewster chuckled. "You better… I wouldn't want to report you to the doctor." Brewster stopped laughing at the flash of fear that shot across Luigi's face. "Luigi, I was joking, coo."

Luigi swallowed, and smiled. "I know. We're just messing, I know, I wasn't, uh... "He shook his head and looked away.

The tension still hung in the air when Luigi left later that night.


	4. Chapter 4

He watched a slow trickle of liquid crawl down the edge of Luigi's mouth. It trailed across the pale, stubble-invested chin, and then collapsed down his throat, as Luigi licked his lips. The man's throat convulsed. Luigi didn't look up when he spoke.

"Brew… ster. C-can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead, coo."

He was on his twenty-third drink at this point. He hadn't left after twelve, like the first two times. Luigi looked moody; his eyes had a red ring around them, and were glassy and dull. He didn't look up from the bottle as he spoke.

"Wh…why do bad things happen to g-good people? My brother, the princess… even Bowser, they don't… deserve that and it just…"

He cut off with a sort of choked sob; one scratched at his throat as he stared into his drink, not blinking. "They don't… it's not justified. All that trouble they went through- all… all that trouble they go through now. It shouldn't happen to them-" He laughed, an awful strangled laugh. "Not them. Not them. " Brewster saw teeth move and grind behind Luigi's pale cheeks.

Luigi let out a shaky breath. "It happens to them and not me. Never me, never me, me- Not me who _fucking deserves it_ -" His white-knuckled grip on the bottle tightened.

His face was a sudden mix of hatred and rage; with an angry movement, he stood and flung his bottle over the counter, smashing it against the wall. Glass shards flew. Brewster felt a short slash against his left shoulder and squawked- he jumped back, bumping against the counter. When he put his wing to it and pulled away, there was blood staining the feathers. He looked at Luigi.

Luigi stood away, out of his seat with one trembling hand pressed hard against his mouth. The tears that had been swimming in his eyes since that fifth drink dripped down. Brewster saw his shoulder shake.

Slowly his hand lowered, and dangled at his side. He smiled. "B-bad things to good people, right? Right?" His shoulders dropped suddenly. "I'm sorry." He looked miserable again." I'm-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm a bad person. I-I-"

"Luigi, I'm fine, coo." Brewster said, "It's just a scratch. I am alright coo."

"I-I'm sorry Brewster. I'm bad see? That's why bad things happen to me. I'm bad. I'm terrible. I deserve it." Luigi's nails dug into the sides of his arms, creating dents in the bandages as he hugged himself tightly. It was if he was trying to keep himself together, to hold up the bones and joints that were threatening to fall straight out of their sockets. "I mean do you know what I've done? I'm not even… I'm not-"

His face was miserable before and now showed a flash of fear. Luigi stumbled back, turning to the door but tripped, falling against the table. Brewster saw the table overturn, chairs scattering as they clambered to the floor, and from behind the counter he saw part of a shoulder, shaking.

He came out from behind the counter. Luigi huddled underneath the table, back loosely arched over his knees. Brewster saw one hand over his mouth, muffling any sound.

Carefully, Brewster set the table to rights and then sat down on the floor. His knees immediately began to ache. He put a gentle hand on Luigi's side, and felt the man stiffen beneath it.

"Luigi," he said.

The hand over Luigi's mouth loosened. "I'm sorry Brewster." He whispered, his eyes looking anywhere but at Brewster. "I don't want to hurt people."

"I'm alright Luigi. You didn't hurt me, coo." Brewster patted his side gently. "Everything is alright. Come on… Can you sit up?"

There was a moment, but Brewster watched the dents in the bandages lessen, and Luigi pushed himself forward. He looked more tired than before, the dark lines and red rimmed even more exaggerated by the paleness of his face. His shoulders were slumped. His eyes were dull.

"Do you want to stay here?" Brewster asked. Luigi shook his head.

"Do you want me to help you back to your room?" Again Luigi shook his head. "Come on then, coo." Brewster carefully slid an arm underneath his shoulders, and Luigi held on as Brewster helped him to his feet.

"Do… you have your balance?" He held to one arm of the man as he swayed. It was a moment before Luigi found his footing. "Thank you. I've got it." Luigi said.

Brewster let go and Luigi stood. He wouldn't meet the pigeon's eyes. "I'm sorry. " he said again. "I'm… sorry. Thank you."

"Do you need help back to your rooms? " Brewster asked again.

"No, I can make it back." Luigi said. "Thank you."

There was a silence.

"There's… no shame in asking for help Luigi. " Brewster said. "If you need help… I can give it to you, coo."

Luigi swallowed and looked away for a moment, blinking rapidly. Then he was striding to the exit, door open and slammed. Out the café's window Brewster watched Luigi's distressed walk down the street, towards the mansion. Brewster sighed, and rubbed at his beak. His shoulder stung.


	5. Chapter 5

Brewster didn't expect Luigi to come back after last night, but as the last Smasher waved and walked out the door, he made no movement to lock up. He waited. There was no harm in hoping.

An hour past nine, he saw the slim figure storm past the window and throw open the door. Brewster could immediately see the bags under his eyes and the tension in the man's shoulders. Luigi sat down at the counter, and for a few minutes, neither of them spoke. Brewster ran a washcloth over the bar. Luigi stared down at his clasped hands in his lap.

"How can you say that Brewster?" Luigi said finally.

"Coo?"

"Last night you said, 'everything is alright.' Brewster, that, that doesn't even make any sense. "He dropped his eyes and placed his elbow on the counter. "Nothing is alright. It hasn't been alright for ages."

Brewster nodded towards the bandages winding up Luigi's shoulder. "Those are… fresh." They stopped dead above each elbow, revealing the thick, enflamed scars that covered his forearms. Luigi glanced down then back at Brewster, staring into the pigeon's eyes .

"I kept thinking that you didn't deserve it, that I was the one that should have gotten hurt. That I should try and see how it felt. "Luigi looked away again, and the bartender saw his teeth clench and unclench behind his thin face.

Brewster reached underneath the counter and drew a bottle from the fridge. "Would you like a drink?" He popped the lid off against the counter, and placed it in front of Luigi.

"Yes, that would be so easy for you, wouldn't it? Let me get drunk and make me talk about my feelings, go ahead and make me have another break down, see if you can help." He glared angrily up at the tinted glasses, " I don't wanna fucking drink. I'm not a fucking charity case."

Brewster cooed softly. "Do you want to talk then, coo?"

Luigi crossed his arms. "Not really."

Brewster shrugged at him, and for a moment Luigi glanced at the white bandage covering his shoulder. "There are… a few things I would like to know, coo."

"Yeah, more questions? Great." He exhaled." You know what, fine. Here, I'll start off the routine," He snatched the bottle up and took a long drink. When he slammed it back on the table, it was already half-empty. " _Shoot."_

There was a pause. "Okay. Why is nothing alright, Luigi?" Brewster said quietly.

Luigi looked down at the bottle for a long moment. "That's personal."

"I… I believe I deserve an answer, coo."

Luigi was silent for a few moments. "It's… a long story. I didn't sleep last night, I'm tired."

"Then tell me what you can, coo." Brewster said. "Luigi, I want to help."

Luigi huffed, a short mix of a laugh and a sigh. "Sure you fucking do. " He muttered. He drank again, and the bottle was slammed down empty. Brewster began to open a new one.

"Okay so, There… is this heart, the Chaos Heart. And it's inside me. I'm its host." He took the bottle Brewster offered and drank. "I keep it alive, it keeps me alive. And it's evil. It- it- Dimentio, he used it and me and almost destroyed everyone." He had another white-knuckled grip on his bottle. "I- Brewster, I almost killed Mario. I almost… killed…" His head dropped and his hand slid to cover his mouth.

Brewster was silent. There was nothing he could think to say. He waited until the tenseness in the man's shoulder's eased, and Luigi moved his hand to take another drink.

"I almost killed my brother." Luigi said. His voice had a hollow tone. "Almost killed my own brother. Told you I'm bad."

"Luigi." He said, and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, "I…. I had no idea."

"Of course you didn't." Luigi said. He was back to staring at the bottle. "It's not like I tell people. What would it do, huh? They can't help me. They can't make it stop. The only thing talking would do is get me pity."

"It would mean you could stop suffering in silence. " Brewster offered. "It would mean you could ease these feelings, coo. Talk about them-"

"For fucks sake Brewster-" Luigi jumped to his feet sharply, leaning forward, "My brother doesn't even know this much! Grambi, I share a fucking room with him, and he doesn't notice _shit_ Brewster, who can I talk to about my feelings? Huh?" He leaned closer. "Who would even care?"

Brewster looked at him steadily. "Me." He said.

In a moment, Luigi's face crumpled. He sat back down heavily in the chair, leaning against the bar with a hand supporting his forehead. " I hoped you wouldn't say that. " He mumbled, "You don't know how tempting that is."

Brewster busied himself with opening another bottle. "I…" He shook his head. "I… care about you, Luigi. I want to help."

Luigi sniffed." Don't say that Brewster, please don't…" He swallowed. "You can't help me. I'm too far gone."

"I can try, coo." Brewster handed him the drink, and Luigi immediately took a long swallow. "I want to listen, coo. I want to try." He said.

Luigi was shaking his head, back and forth, staring down at the counter. "…I can't promise you anything, Brewster. " He said. "I can't promise I won't try to hurt you. I can't promise that I'll believe you'll stay when you figure out how messed up I am. "He lifted his shoulders lightly in a shrug, and looked up. He had a thin, wavering smile. "But hey, how-how about I'll think about it, eh? I'll… decide later. Until then you'll just have to… _liv-er let live?_ Eh? Come on that one wasn't too bad."

Brewster smiled and Luigi grinned, tipped the bottle, and drank.


	6. Chapter 6

"…I take it you slept well?"

Luigi shrugged, giving him a weak smile. " Yeah, I did. Very well rested." He took a sip, and looked down. Brewster waited.

"…Come on, Brew. It isn't important." Luigi threw out his arms, indicating to the empty café. "Can't we just enjoy this perfect silence? You've got to be tired after working all day. Come on; Who was the first guy to complain about the service even though you made him a perfect cup? I'll beat him up tomorrow for you. Like, if we have a match together tomorrow." Luigi grinned, raising his eyebrows. "You know you wanna."

Brewster gave him a look. Luigi turned away and giggled. "I'll do it!" he pointed at Brewster, "I swear, I'd do it!"

"I would believe you if you weren't only half sober, coo." Brewster said. "And Luigi…"

Luigi huffed. "Brewster, I'm always half sober. You're being incredibly offensive."

" Luigi…"

"Brewster…" He mocked, and then looked away. He sighed. "I… You know I don't want to talk about it."

He had finished the bottle. Brewster opened a new one, and placed it on the counter; that made it five out of the usual twelve.

"…I know, coo." Brewster leaned against the counter. "However… it is healthy. " Luigi looked away. Brewster sighed. "I won't force you to talk about it, coo. " Brewster leaned back. "But I am here for you."

Luigi muttered something into his drink.

Brewster sighed. "Your… injuries. " Brewster nodded towards the man's arms. "Are they alright? The bandages are… filthy, coo. "

Luigi shrugged. "Yeah, I'm running out of bandages. I'm pretty sure if I steal anymore from the doctor he'll catch on. "

"Why don't you just… go to Dr. Mario himself, coo?"

Luigi snorted. "Brewster, he's my cousin. " He glanced up. "He'd tell my brother."

Brewster raised an eyebrow, "Is that… a bad thing?"

" _Yes."_ Luigi stressed, and Brewster could see the tension rise in his shoulders. "Please don't tell him."

"I won't, coo." Brewster said. He paused. "I'll get you some."

"W-what?"

"I'll find you something."

Luigi shook his head. "How? I mean, I don't want you to steal-"

"Just trust me on this, coo." Brewster said. "I'll… get you some."

Luigi stared at him for a moment, then looked down. He swallowed the rest of the beer. "Brewster…" he said, then swallowed again. He sighed. "Thank you so much." He sounded close to crying.

"It's… no problem coo. " Brewster said. He placed a new bottle on the counter. "Luigi…" he paused. "… I am always here for you, coo."

Luigi sniffed, and muttered something illegible into his drink.


	7. Chapter 7

Luigi threw open the door and stepped into the café, eyes firmly set on the ground. He didn't look up until he was at the bar. "Brewster, how-" he stopped.

Stafy was behind the counter. He waved at Luigi, beaming. "Hey Luigi! Brewster said you'd be by! "

"St…Stafy?" Luigi took a step back, watching the star, "Where's Brewster?"

"He went back to his game for supplies, I think!" Stafy said. " Or he might just be sick, I don't know! But he said not to lock the doors until you came by, and to give you that box!" With difficulty the star pointed and Luigi saw the cardboard box sitting on the table. He opened it, and saw a dozen of the usual brown bottles, stacked side by side.

"Woah… oh man, I… " Luigi shook his head and looked back at Stafy. "Do I need to pay you or anything? Did he say…?"

"Nope! Already paid for! " Stafy beamed. "He also said that you should clean your injuries more, whatever that means!"

"O… kay." Luigi picked up the box, hefting it in his arms. "Well, I'll be… going. Have a good night Stafy. Tell Brewster I said thanks."

"Alright! Bye Mr. Luigi!"

He decided to head back to the suite. There was nowhere outside the mansion where he could drink in peace, without anyone seeing. Luigi was fairly sure alcohol wasn't really allowed at all during the tournament, so if Master Hand heard that he had gotten piss drunk out in the square, things wouldn't be good.

The suite was dark when he arrived. Mario wasn't there. Luigi figured he was over at Peach's suite, or maybe he was hanging out with Captain Falcon again. Luigi didn't really care. There wasn't a bottle opener in the kitchen, so Luigi forced two bottles open against the counter, and then sat down in the living room to watch TV, drinking in turn with characters on the screen.

Around the fifth beer, he found the coffee table was just as good as popping off caps as the counter. Which was good, he mused, over the sixth, since it was getting kinda tedious going back and forth from the kitchen. Not to mention, he was getting sleepy. Brewster kept him occupied at the bar; in the dark apartment with the volume turned low on the tv, there was no one to keep him awake.

His stomach murmured low as he gulped down the end of the eighth bottle. He realized he hadn't eaten all day. Two brawls, one before lunch, one after had kept him occupied- he really needed to take care of himself.

Luigi got up and stumbled to the kitchen-he never knew how bright it was in here, _shit,_ his eyes stung- and put a pot of water on the stove. Mac n' cheese. That _really_ sounded good

He went back to living room and laid out on the couch. He'd know when the water started boiling. He always did.

Bottle number nine and ten were drained in quick succession, and Luigi giggled a little as the pictures on the screen blurred in and out. Was the water boiling? He got up, and glanced at the pot- no. Maybe it was, everything was a little blurry, but he guessed no. He was close to not caring. Sure, he might care tomorrow if he started throwing up again- alcohol was not good coming up a second time- but that would be tomorrow. Tomorrow, with that ache in his chest and the struggle not to have panic attacks in large crowds, something he didn't want to consider. He felt good.

They had ketchup and mustard in the fridge, and that would was going to be great with that cheese. Maybe. For fun, Luigi flung them at the stove; perfect shots, they landed right on the counter.

He made his way back to the living room. Bottle number eleven met its end, and soon he had drank all of twelve. Luigi giggled to himself. This was about the time he would stumble back to the suite, almost falling down at the door, always banging his shin on the coffee table, then collapsing onto the bed, hearing Mario snore across the room. It was quiet here without him.  
Luigi felt his eyes drift shut. It was gonna be easy to fall asleep tonight. The couch felt like it slept good, too.

In the kitchen, the pot on the stove began boiling dry. The ketchup on the wall dripped down, onto the mustard that had flown in perfect streaks across the walls and counters.

Luigi slept.


	8. Chapter 8

Luigi heard yelling through the daze of sleep, and rolled over. He hit the floor, and groaned. This wasn't his bed. He wouldn't have fallen out of his bed.

That was right; he fell asleep on the couch. Brewster hadn't been at the Roost, it was Stafy. He had gotten drunk in the suite last night. He hadn't made it to the bedroom.

Luigi hoped Mario was yelling about sleeping on the couch. There was no telling what he had done last night. He also hoped that Mario would stop shouting; Grambi, this was going to be a bad hangover. It must still be early in the morning, since he hadn't slept through the worse of the headache.

Mario was getting closer. Shit. Luigi rolled on his side and covered his ears; the throbbing at his temples was increasing. It spiked with every enunciated syllable that came out of Mario's mouth. He was _hungover,_ he couldn't understand a word that Mario was saying, and didn't his brother realize that?

A fist curled in the front of his shirt and jerked him upwards. Luigi scrambled to follow it. He tottered on shaky legs as Mario opened his mouth, then stopped. His brother's nose wrinkled.

"Have…Have you been drinking? Is that alcohol on your breath?" Mario asked. "Jesus Christ Luigi," He let go of his shirt and Luigi stumbled backwards, falling against the couch. "What's wrong with you? What did you do last night?"

Luigi swallowed; his mouth was gritty. "N…nothin'." He mumbled.

"Nothing!" Mario shrieked, and Luigi winced, covering his ears, "The kitchen is a mess, stove was almost on fire, and I find you passed out on the couch- Nothing? Nothing happened last night?"

"Mario please, I've got a headache." He said, turning away, "Calm down."

Mario paused. "So you were drinking."

"Yes." He'd say anything if it would get Mario to stay quiet.

"Luigi- God dammit. Where did you even get alcohol?" Luigi heard clinking glass. "This isn't from the Mushroom Kingdom- where did you get this?"

He groaned. "I-I can't tell you. " Luigi said.

He heard Mario exhale. "Why not?"

"I don't want anyone to get in trouble Mario, please, just- _be quiet-_ "

"Luigi!" Luigi flinched at the volume. Mario paused. He sighed. "Fine. I'm sorry. Here, let me get you a mushroom."

"No, no- Mario, don't, jeez." Luigi huffed. "I'd rather just sleep it off."

Mario shifted; Luigi couldn't see the pose, but he could guess. Arms crossed, feet planted, that damn firm look on his face. Grambi, he didn't want to fight right now, he wanted to sleep.

"Fine. Fine. I want an explanation."

Rage flared up; if the suite hadn't been dark he wouldn't have been able to do it, but Luigi swung his head around and glared. "Well, Mario, you're not going to get one."

"You owe me-"

"I don't owe you _shit."_ Luigi hissed.

"Luigi!" Mario glared at him. He didn't think that was the first time he'd swore in front of Mario. It didn't matter.

"I'm not telling you anything Mario." Luigi said, looking at him, "Sorry. But I'm not."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Luigi thought the alcohol had to still be in his system, because it was Mario instead of him that backed down first.

"…Fine." Mario turned, and walked away, into the bedroom. Luigi stared at the closed door for a moment. Then he shrugged, collapsing back on the couch. That was good. Mario usually got angrier than that. Maybe today he was just too tired to really put up a fuss. Which was good; if Mario went to sleep, he'd have enough time to get rid of his hangover and clean up the kitchen. No evidence and Mario would forget all about it.

A crash from the other room made him jump; it was followed by several thumps, and Luigi heard a pattering sound against the wall. Was that coins?

Oh no, _oh no-_ he found the energy to stand and stumbled towards the bedroom door. He ducked as he opened the door, and a green shirt still thumped against his chest. His stuff was all around the room.

"What are you doing?" he screamed.

Mario looked up at him from the open suitcase, the cold anger still burning in his eyes. "I didn't think you brought any alcohol from the Mushroom Kingdom," He said, "and either way, those bottles in the living room don't look like anything from our game. But- "he gestured at the coins lying on the ground. Luigi's hands clenched into fists. "You sure have a lot of coins. So, Luigi, who is letting you buy alcohol?"

He could barely force out words. "I, don't have to tell you-"

"Yes you do!" Mario shouted, "You can't take care of yourself! I come back and there's a mess in the kitchen- what if something had caught on fire Luigi? You'd be too fucking _drunk_ to save yourself! Look at this place-"

"The only thing I see is you being an asshole!" Luigi hissed. "I am a grown man, I can drink, and I can make messes, because I can clean up after myself! I can survive on my own! Mario, you- I've seen you drink tons of times! Why should it matter when I do it? Huh? Is it because you can't handle that I- I don't need you?"

His anger expired as quickly as it came, and Luigi just stood there, gasping for breath. His ears were ringing. His headache pounded.

Mario was staring at him. Luigi could see the blistering rage still in his face, ready to burst out from under his skin; but Mario didn't say anything. He walked past, pushing Luigi aside and walking towards the door. Luigi felt brave enough for an after-shot.

"Stop pushing me!" He shouted after him. A pause and a slamming door was his only answer.

He breathed. It was nice to stand there, and just breathe for a moment. But he turned, and got some aspirin from the bathroom. He wasn't staying here. He couldn't stay here. If his brother came back Luigi knew he wasn't brave enough to fight again, and he wasn't going to clean up. Mario could fix his own mess.

He threw on his usual outfit, and waited out the headache. When he finally left the suite, the stares of the other Smashers followed him. He saw Link looking almost concerned enough to confront him. Luigi didn't give a shit- for all he cared, they could just go to hell.


End file.
